In the Shadow of the Moon
by Grand Phoenix
Summary: In the final hours of the Silver Millennium, Sailor Venus comes across a strange girl who refuses to evacuate the Moon Kingdom without her best friend. [A prequel side-story to the upcoming "Until We Meet Again" rewrite]


**Notes1:** As promised, this story is proofread. I may comb through it one more time, but details should, for the most part, remain set in stone. I've added some padding here and there, and the rest of the document polished and updated to acknowledge the lore present in _A Passing Glance_ and other such stories.

* * *

She finds the girl sitting under the alcove of the basement stairs, stroking a black salamander splayed flat on the palm of her hand. There is screaming and dying and it's raining ballistae and felfire, and here she is lost in her own little world, neutral and undisturbed, as a thousand years of history and peace fall all around her.

Sailor Venus doesn't believe what she's seeing. "What are you doing? Didn't you hear the evacuation orders? You have to leave now! It's not safe here!"

The girl looks up, and Venus is taken aback by the sharpness of those violet eyes, the misanthropic displeasure. "Former First Class Hunter of the Venusian Royal Forces 19th Cohort and former heiress to the Throne of Magellan, Mina Aphrodi," she says, each word flowing eloquently and succinctly off her tongue. "I have a question to ask of you."

"We can talk later! Get out from there and come with me!" Venus holds out her hand and beckons the girl to take it. Millennium Hold is on the verge of collapse. She can feel the tremors coursing up her legs, rattling her teeth, scraping against her brain like a Mercurian power washer. If she hurries, she can get the girl to the nearest spaceport and, Aphrodite willing, unload her into an escape pod and set the coordinates for the Andromeda Galaxy. If there are any that have not already been taken.

But the girl does not move. She stares at her, her expression unchanging, and it is like having a Jovian drill digging through all that Venus was, all that Venus is, and all that Venus ever will be, and she wants to look away. Yank her away from her hidey-hole and get a damn move on, because if they stay here any longer the whole building will come crashing down on them and there won't be a future waiting for them, and Serena would be devastated to hear that the leader of the Sailor Guardians lost her life over a civilian who refused to leave her spot under the stairs.

"Tell me, Mina Aphrodi," says the girl. "Have you seen Madoka?"

"Madoka?"

"Aye, Madoka of House Mitaki. Have you seen her?"

Venus wracks her mind for an answer, but the confusion is wiped away as what sparse memories she has pertaining to that name surface. Oh, _that_ Madoka. The Mitaki clan is one of many families born and bred on Luna, navigating the political field with firm, unyielding fists. Its power lay solely within her mother, who, as further dredging of visual recollection is brought to clarity, adamantly argued in favor of launching a global manhunt on Earth for the warlock Beryl, for the Four Heavenly Kings who once served as Prince Endymion's Honor Guard. The girl's father is…an entrepreneur? Yes, that is what he is. He operates a number of mining colonies in the Mars-Jupiter asteroid belt in conjunction with a botanical garden near the Bay of Rainbows that is researching how to grow flowers on captured asteroids in space. And Madoka….

She's only seen her once, after a particularly tense session in Parliament. She and the other Guardians had been shadowing Serena as she and Queen Serenity made their way out of the chamber through the throng of people when she caught a glimpse of the girl approaching her mother. Such a small girl, that Madoka, so innocent and delicate Venus nearly mistook her for a child. Then she thought of her as a flower, with her peach skin and vibrant pink hair and roseate eyes, and she was reminded of the new species of plant discovered on the Outer Fringes beyond Neptune's aerospace, the Xenian flower.

That was…nearly a year ago to the day. A year since the five young women who would become Queen Serenity's Sailor Guardians were blessed with to behold the Roseate Imperium Crystal and tasted the power of holy fire searing through their veins. A year since hell took its first step on Luna and left destruction in its wake.

It feels longer than that. So much longer.

And the apocalypse is upon them. It couldn't even be called as such. A quick glance outside confirmed her fears that the heaving, breathing mass of darkness surrounding Millennium Hold wasn't the Sea of Serenity but the Negaforce—every warlock Beryl personally corrupted and trained, every demon and pit lord they ensnared with their foul magicks, every fel reaver and iron star they constructed and powered their nightmare war machines. And somewhere in the vacuum of space, like a writhing, gangrenous tumor, is Metalia, the God of Fel and Flame.

To think that death is so very near, whispering in her ear the hour of her doom….

Venus suppresses the chill shiver running down her spine and shakes her head. "No, I haven't. She's probably with her family at the spaceport right now. They might have left with everyone else. I don't know. _But we can't stay here_."

"You can't," the girl says, "but I can. I will." She gives the little black salamander a pat on the nose with her finger. "I will not leave without Madoka."

"Are you mad?!" Venus cries, and throws her arm out in a sweeping gesture at their surroundings. "Look around you! This whole place can't take much more!"

"So it is," and the girl brushes off a layer of plaster that rains down on her head. There is a thunderous explosion, followed by the acrid stench of ozone and sulfur. The hairs on Venus's arms and neck stand on end, a siren song indicating the closeness of fel energy. "But I still won't move. Not a foot, not an inch, not a centimeter. Not at all." She stares pointedly, sternly, at the Sailor Guardian.

Sailor Venus can't understand, doesn't understand, why this brat is fool enough to stay behind and needlessly throw her life away for a friend who may or may not have already evacuated the satellite. A friend who may or may not be on the way to the havens in Andromeda, where she can be safe and as far away as possible from all the fighting and death and heroic _(SENSELESS)_ sacrifices that would drive the bravest of men and women to a sobbing, frightened mess. But that friend isn't necessarily safe if this kid isn't with her, would she? She'd be worried sick out of her mind, wondering what has become of the one who sat under a stairwell with a stupid lizard for company. She'd be envisioning this dark-haired brooding moron on a ship that's still on its way toward the Outer Fringes, maybe skimming Jupiter's rings, perhaps outrunning Metalia's burning legion in a desperate bid to throw them off its tail, and hoping—fervently hoping—this girl whose name Venus doesn't even know is alive and well.

Yet she can't bring it upon herself to abandon her. Not like this. Not when she had to leave people like her former retinue to play martyr and throw themselves in the line of fire so she could escape from the battlefield. Not when she had to send her beloved hawk to attack an unsuspecting warlock and watch as he was pierced through the heart by a sniper's arrow and dropped to the bloody field. Not when she had to leave her fellow Guardians to the task of leading the royal family and the people of the Moon Kingdom to the underground tunnels, knowing full well they might come across Beryl and her lackeys and give it their all to fulfill their sworn duties before falling in battle.

Not like this.

It can't be like this.

And it's those thoughts that force her to draw Durandal from its sheathe and rest its wintry peak between the girl's brow. A bead of blood bubbles forth and dribbles down her face. She does not flinch and neither does Venus.

This is wrong. This goes against the creed she swore upon as she was bathed in the light of the Roseate Imperium Crystal, but Selene be damned what other choice does she have? "You're coming with me," she grinds out. "I don't care if you don't want to go. I'll bring you to Madoka by force!"

The girl sighs, looks at Venus as though she is a not-so particularly bright child. She lifts her finger to the trickle of red, dabs a single drop onto the pad and offers it to the salamander. It flicks its tongue and laps at it like a cat drinking water. "It doesn't matter what you say. I will wait here. I will watch as this glorious kingdom crumbles to its knees. I don't care for it. None of it. Not unless Madoka's there with me."

"I can't let you do that."

"You don't have a choice."

_"Who says?!"_

"The Children of Aeon."

Venus's blood runs cold. The Children of Aeon are the most elite assassins in the Chronos Hegemony. They move silently, swiftly, as if they are wraiths borne out of the creation myth of Chaos, capable of jumping between temporal dimensions to dispatch their enemies and literally disappear into thin air. They are gifted as the Sailor Guardians are blessed with the Light of the Galaxy Cauldron, and it is these gifts that make them so deadly and so fearful a foe.

Venus lowers the blade, too stunned to draw upon the strength to keep it aloft. "What…What do the Children have to do with all this?"

"It's very simple," says the girl. "I have peered into the Brink. I have seen all that will and will not come to pass, every possibility and permutation the human mind can imagine. It is a very serious affront to have an outsider who is not the Guardian of Time behold the Solar System's greatest secret. It matters little to the Hegemony that the end has come. The Children have heard their call, and they will answer it. So it goes."

"Are they here now?" Venus asks, but she does not deign to look. It would be no use. "Are they…waiting?"

The girl shrugs. "Who can say? Nothing is ever truly set in stone. If they come before Madoka, then I will die. If Madoka comes before they arrive, then I will follow her underground and find a ship or an escape pod that will deliver us from this world into the stars."

"What makes you think Madoka is coming for you? She might already be on the way to Andromeda right now."

Another blast rocks the building and the lights flicker, but for a very brief instant Venus thinks she sees something more than just the glare overhead gleaming in the girl's violet eyes. A silvery glitter, like a diamond, lost in miles and miles of endless sand. "She isn't," she says. "She is pushing her way through a sea of humanity, calling me, calling on the Lady Selene to guide her to me. Her parents do not know she is not on board the ship they're in, but once they realize…it'll be too late." A small, tight smile graces her mouth, and the girl laughs. "So very reckless…but that's how Madoka Mitaki is. She just can't leave a friend behind…even when that friend tells her she doesn't want to be saved.

"So go now, Mina Aphrodi. Leave me be. Regardless of the outcome Madoka will find me, and we will leave this world together. It's only a matter of time." She lays her hand on the floor, and the salamander hops off and scurries into the encroaching darkness.

"I can't believe you," Venus murmurs, unable to quash the emotion in those words. She senses rather than feels the welling of tears. "There's nothing I can do to convince you?"

"No," says the girl, and her tone is like the hammer striking its final knell on the anvil. "The Moirai are hard at work."

Durandal clashes against the stone tiles, sending hot yellow sparks flying. Her grip is fierce on the handle, the skin white beneath its gauntlet, and Venus strikes it again for good measure. "Why?! Why does it have to be this way?!"

The girl leans back against the wall, stretches her legs out and folds her hands—one on top of the other—over her lap. She is content, she is unafraid, and it is so very _wrong_. "Because we are human, and we cannot save everyone." She lifts her hand and slides it through her hair, flipping it away from her eyes. "Remember that you are a Guardian, Mina Aphrodi. Remember that you will die. Be mindful of it and you will not have sinned."

"But—!"

"Do your job," the girl says suddenly. "Find anyone who hasn't left the Hold and get them underground. Make sure the Princess is safe. Or go after Beryl and pierce her cold, black heart. The choice is yours."

Venus sniffs and with the back of her hand furiously dashes across her eyes. "Damn it," she manages to choke out. "Goddess…damn it! Damn you!"

The girl raises and lowers a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. "You're not the first person to tell me that. Why, your fellow comrade Rei Gradivus warned me it is this attitude of mine that will shape me into a being of great and terrible power in my next life, sowing destruction and discord wherever I go; and all who come into contact with me will be condemned to suffer beneath my yoke…even Madoka.

"Will I become that person? Will I become something else that will prove the Lady Mars and the Children I am more than such? Does reincarnation truly exist, or is it wishful thinking for those who fear the music heralding the end? I don't know. I can't fathom to guess, but I cannot bear to know my friend might endure such a fate. So before you go, I must ask you a favor."

"What do you expect me to do?" Venus asks. "Find Madoka and protect her from you?"

"If this future does come to pass, then yes, that is exactly what I want you to do. Teach her. Guide her. But do not let her get hurt, because if you do—"

"I know," Venus interjects tiredly. "I get it. But if it doesn't, know that I'll personally hunt you down and kick your sorry ass." For making her feel so pathetic. For making her fail as a Guardian and a human being to protect all her friends and loved ones from a death they don't deserve to have. For being entrusted to care for a girl who will have no recollection of the life she lived before.

"Thank you. That is all I ask of you. Now go, Sailor Venus. Decide your fate. Time will not wait for you." She says something else, but a third blast—ear-splitting and uncomfortably close—shakes the building to its very core, knocking over unseen pillars and shattering glass, and as much as she strains to hear Venus does not catch those next few words.

But she is smiling. Happy.

Grateful.

It's disgusting.

Venus takes up the Durandal and runs down the corridor, away from this dark-haired girl and her violet, glittering eyes. Away from the little black salamander she nearly crushes in her mad dash through chaos and death. Away from the memories of Madoka Mitaki, lingering like a leech in the back of her mind.

Away from it all.

* * *

She sits in the dark, listening to the white noise of a dying world: the static hiss of magic arcane and fel, the rumbling of iron stars plowing a swathe of destruction, the roar of pit lords and the cries of demons that curdles the blood and stops the beating of hearts.

She blinks—and there is Sailor Venus, broken and battered, blood gushing from open wounds, a plethora of arrows sticking out of her back. Her eyes are wild, her mind operating on a single thought.

She blinks—and there is Beryl, Durandal sunk into her stomach. Her face is pale, shocked, her mouth open in a silent screech.

She blinks—and there are Princess Serena and Prince Endymion, leaning against each other. Serena screams, calling her name.

She blinks—and there are the warlocks and spellswords, weapons drawn and closing in.

She blinks—and there are the Sailor Guardians, dead and growing cold.

She blinks—and there is Metalia, gloating and laughing and setting the stars on fire.

She blinks—and there are Queen Serenity and Artemis Shepard and Luna Hawke in the middle of it all, surrounded and with no hope of escape.

There is a light in the Queen's hands, tiny, silver, and glimmering: the Silver Crystal. A massive spell circle rippling with Old Lunarian runes appears beneath her feet and expands, expands, crawling toward the horizon. The light dazzles the demonic front line, and for a moment their concentration wavers. But they recover, the unease passes; they know a long incantation when they see one, and they press on.

There is a ripple in the air, and there is a whisper of footsteps, the kiss of steel drawn into the open. The tear in reality reassembles itself in evaporating clouds of magic.

There is a girl running up the stairs, out of the tunnels and into the ruins of Millennium Hold. She splashes through puddles made by emptied water mains, climbs over rubble and debris sculpted by the hands of artisans in ages past. She cries a familiar name, but no one answers and no one comes. These halls are empty.

There is a church, lonely and sad, and upon its altar is a stone goddess with long flowing hair and eight feathery wings, arms outstretched, and there is blood smeared in the shape of hand prints at the base. There are words scrawled hastily on the floor, plum-black and drying into the tiles. They spell out a phrase: **THIS TOO SHALL PASS.**

Homura sighs, closes her eyes and views the universe spread out before her.

"Where, now, do we go from here?"


End file.
